


Depreciation

by lilnaugrim



Series: Major and His Corporal [Series] [5]
Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Depression, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:00:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3449741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilnaugrim/pseuds/lilnaugrim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 4077th Company Clerk starts to feel depreciated over time when the camp berates him for different things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Depreciation

_Dear Uncle Abdul_  
  
From my last letters you know now that I've been company clerk for a while. It's really great, makes me feel needed and of course, I help out in the operating room still. I almost got out of the army a few weeks ago but some of my friends stopped me, I know it'd make you proud if I had gotten out but for now, I'm comfortable here. I know it's hard to comprehend, but it's the truth!  
  
Lately though, it's been a different story. Normally I'm fairly respected around here; sure, I get trampled on occasionally but they usually realize and apologize later. However, lately, it's been so tense around here for some strange reason. Captains Hunnicutt and Pierce have been practically at each other's throat and because of that, they're at mine too. Apparently I've lost a form for Major— 

  

"Klinger!" Charles burst into the office, Klinger sighed and put his letter down as he looked up tiredly to his Major. "You idiotic imbecile! You've lost that requisition form for more blankets and coats! Didn't you?!" Charles yelled at him, cuddled in his own thin, green army jacket and looking particularly frozen.  


"I did not Major! They were sent out last week!" Klinger defended his territory, tired of taking crap from his Major lately.  


"Then where are they?!" Charles growled at him.  


"Look, it's not my fault if supply got hit with mortar shells! I-core won't send us anything until they get reimbursed for the coats and then the fighting goes on a lull!" he growled back. Charles was pursing his lips in reply.  


"I demand to see the requisition form," he stood up straight, trying to keep his dignity intact.  


"Fine!" Klinger stood up, throwing the chair back as he marched over to his filing cabinet to look for the file. He found it in record time, though it helped that not many requisitions had been made since that one so it was practically on top of the pile. "Here, look for yourself," he threw it at Charles, the two papers that were in there flew out on impact but Charles barely blinked at it.  


"You will! clean up your mess," Charles said through gritted teeth. Klinger leaned towards him with his best menacing look.  


"No," he replied, Charles huffed loudly and turned on his toe to leave the office and back out into the wintery wonderland. Klinger growled and grumbled to himself as he cleaned up the papers and put them back where they belonged, just to make sure, he counted the two copies which meant that I-Core did indeed get the copy that they were supposed to; he wasn't a complete idiot. He sat down finally to continue his letter to his uncle.  


_Winchester. He actually just came in here wondering about it, he's normally a swell guy though pretentious. I usually overlook his bad qualities but lately something has been bothering him and I can't figure out what it is, because of that, he's been treating me like dirt every chance he can get! We don't do the things we normally did together; it makes me sad to think that our relationship as friends is going downhill because of something he's not telling us._  


Max had become an expert at skirting around the relationship between he and the Major. He wanted to be able to talk about it but knew his family would outcast him for being queer. There were many things that were accepted in his family but that was not one of them. He hated to think about going home at this point, he really was happy to stay here though he wished the killings would stop.  


_Then Captains Hunnicutt and Pierce are on me for some booze I was supposed to get them on the Black Market. They're fighting with each other for some other reason, I usually don't get too involved with their relationship though, too dangerous! Colonel Potter has been alright, though he's missing his wife; Mildred. She sent him some of her chocolate macaroons the other day, boy where they delicious! Almost as good as Baklava but didn't have the same zing to it.  
_

Max smiled at the thought of a case of Baklava he had stashed away and couldn't wait for nightfall to sneak a few pieces and relish in the little bit of home he had with him.  


_Don't even get me started on Major Houlihan, she's a bird all her own. She's never really been nice to me but I feel like I'm the doormat to her tent, just something nice to have around to trample on. As I said, I normally don't mind it but everyone is so edgy, you can't step on a piece of dirt without someone freaking out about it. It reminds me of that time back in grade school in that fight that started over some plastic ring someone found that involved the whole school yard._

_It really is a great place to be if you're going to be stuck somewhere, I'd rather be here than back at that school yard fight. But I just wish everyone would get along better. Christmas is just around the corner so that's probably what's got everyone on edge, being away from loved ones is hard to do. I know I certainly miss you guys, give my love to ma? I have a little gift for you guys too, I'll send it and hopefully it arrives for Christmas—  
___

"Klinger, where is that daily report? I need to check something that I-Core picked up on," Colonel Potter moseyed in from his office, going to the file cabinets.  


"Third drawer down, should be in front sir," he replied. Potter grumbled to himself about something and fished through the drawer.  


"Klinger! You can't use this drawer for your personal crap, you'd better get these out of here before I burn it all!" Potter turned around, file in hand.  


"But sir, my—"  


"No buts! Get it out of there!" he used Klinger's desk to go through the file, reading it meticulously. Klinger started to become nervous even though he was sure that he'd filled it out appropriately as he did every single day. He got up to do as he was told, digging out his treasures to fit them in his footlocker under his bed.  


"So?" he asked after Potter had been quiet for a little while other than the occasional grumble.  


"You left out two very important words…" he turned to look towards Klinger. Klinger approached to see where he was looking at.  


"Sir, I assure you that—"  


"You left out 'didn't' and 'couldn't' here and there," he pointed to them.  


"Oh, is that all?"  


"Klinger…this is the difference between we received the penicillin we needed—which we didn't! And this says here that we 'couldn't' accommodate the General coming to pay us a visit next week!" Potter barked at him, Klinger recoiled but wanted to stand up for himself.  


"Sir, I checked it over in triplicate and I did not find that mistake!" he said blindly.  


"Then why is it written on both copies?!" he shouted.  


"I don't know!" he yelled back. Potter slammed the file down and retreated back to his office, most likely to drink some of his whisky. Klinger groaned and plopped himself down in his chair, the pressure was enough to make his top blow and he knew that if he did that, there was no turning back. Why couldn't everyone just get along and resolve their conflicts?  


All of the sudden, Max heard a large truck come to a halting screech out in the compound and a Private came in to inform him of the wounded.  


"Wounded in the compound! Second and Third shift on duty!" he sounded over the PA system and grabbed his coat and quickly shuffled out into the snow to help the doctors. It was thankfully only four patients and thankfully, everyone kept a mostly level head during surgery. Max mostly kept his mouth shut too, in fear of starting world war three in his honor. He did the things he needed to do and through the five hour shift, they were all tuckered out and heading towards bed.  


Max didn't quite feel sleepy though, Major Winchester had been stuck in post-op duty while the other three surgeons worked on those boys. Instead of crawling into his nice warm—well mostly warm cot, he scampered off to the Officer's Club to find something else to warm himself up with. There were only a few people there which included Major Houlihan who was reading a letter and Igor.  


"Hey Klinger!" Igor smiled to him and waved, Klinger huffed at him.  


"You're the only person in camp who isn't angry at me for something or other!" he sat down at the bar, "beer please," he tossed the money towards Igor.  


"Well you do owe me for your tab…five dollars and seventy three cents to be exact," Igor drew him up a beer. Klinger grumbled at him and took the beer to the farthest table to sit and brood over everything. He'd gone through five beers before he felt like he should get some sleep.  


"If you don't mind, I'm going to retire now," Klinger stood; Igor looked up with his hand out. Klinger sighed and threw down whatever was in his pocket, looked like it was around five dollars but he wasn't sure. He walked around camp before realizing he wasn't sleepy anymore, kicking a small bottle around before he saw Father Mulcahy headed his way and he sighed.  


"Klinger! I need to talk to you!" he called out as he ran to catch up.  


"Oh, not you too Father," Klinger groaned but stood still to listen to what he had to say.  


"I don't mind if the camp has to suffer a little but the children should never have to endure this! Where did those blankets end up that were supposed to go to the orphanage?!" he asked forcefully, he was very persuasive when he was angry.  


"Look, Father! I told you, they were destroyed! There's nothing I can do about it!"  


"Huh! That's not what the Sister told me! She said the truck never even started out their way!" he yelled back.  


"Yeah, she's right! It was destroyed before it even thought about making it's way to the orphanage. Look I'm sorry, you can requisition more if you want to. The papers are on my desk in the pigeon hole marked 'requisition form'," he informed him. Father Mulcahy was in no mood though.  


"How dare you! Those weren't military blankets Klinger! They were handmade!"  


"Father! I've had just about enough of this!" Klinger turned away from him and started to forcefully walk away, thankful that the priest didn't follow him. He went to the only safe place he knew for the moment, the supply hut. There was no indication on the door that anyone was in there at this time of night and frankly, most of them were asleep anyway. He knocked on the door anyway and listened, upon hearing nothing he entered the darkened hut. "Hello?" he called just in case someone didn't hear the knocking. When he was satisfied, he took a flashlight and went to the very back of the room to sit in the corner where there were a few extra blankets for the wounded. He wrapped himself in one and sat down to feel sorry for himself, tears starting to shed as he let the pressure of everything build up inside of him.  


Max spent the better half of an hour crying in the dark as he sat there. He normally prided himself in his resilience but everyone had their breaking point, the camp had just found his though they didn't know it yet. Max figured that if he could sit and cry for a while that he'd feel better in the morning. The only thing he didn't think through in this plan was that this particular building wasn't heated like the other tents, he shivered to himself but eventually fell asleep there not according to plan.  


Max woke to a huge commotion outside and knew more wounded had come in to the compound and quickly sprang into action even though he felt terrible. He rubbed his face before he exited the hut just to make sure he had all the tear stains gone and he looked mildly presentable. He hustled out into the compound to help with the litters; he coughed to himself as he helped Goldman pick up a litter.  


"There you are Klinger! Where've you been hiding?" Colonel Potter exclaimed.  


"Oh just out and about Colonel," he answered as he walked away with the litter to get the wounded man into pre-op.  


It was four hours into surgery, Klinger started to feel the lack of sleep catch up to him and he tried to take frequent breaks to keep up with everything between running for blood and plasma, to antibiotics for post-op and dressings for wounds. He was sure he looked horrible and Colonel Potter made sure to point it out.  


"Klinger, you look pale, have you eaten anything recently?" Potter asked when he was finished with that particular patient and went up to inspect his clerk.  


"I'm fine sir, I promise," he turned away to go get the sponges that Hawkeye had asked for.  


"I heard you coughing earlier, sure you aren't coming down with anything son?" Potter asked but Klinger sighed; whenever Potter used 'son' with him he knew that he wasn't going to get out of it too easy.  


"Just a little cold is all sir, I'll be fine in a few hours once I get some coffee in me," he replied and gave Hawkeye the sponges. Hawkeye looked up with concern written on his face too.  


"He's right Klinger, you really don't look good," he said between suturing and looking at his friend.  


"Sure," he sneered at them, "now you all care about me!" Klinger yelled at them before he walked out of OR and out through pre-op to get back to his office and start with the daily report and the monthly report which was due too. He threw his surgical mask to the side and slipped his army jacket over the white coat he'd been donning. He attempted to not hack up a lung as he sat down to get to work. He was thankful for the two hours of quiet as he worked and everyone else kept in the OR and post-op. But it couldn't last forever, Colonel Potter was the first to find him at his office.  


"Alright, what's the matter with you Klinger? Why would you walk out on us like that when we need you?" Potter folded his arms and Klinger turned around to look at his CO.  


"Don't worry sir, I was just getting a leg up on the daily reports and other forms," he replied tiredly.  


"Why'd you blow up on us? You've never done that before," Potter replied.  


"Sir, believe me, I'm just tired and need some rest, okay?" he tried to sway his Colonel. Potter sighed and looked him over.  


"Alright but I'd better see you in this bed tonight instead of out bothering the local bars," Potter pointed at him and Klinger nodded with a nonchalant salute.  


"Absolutely sir," he replied and was thankful when Potter left him alone. He turned back around to try to reread what he had so far for the letter to his uncle but he was distracted once more when Charles came in.  


"How's about that requisition Klinger?" Charles wasted no time in getting back to the point. Max growled under his breath and slammed the paper down as he stood up to greet his partner.  


"Major, I told you already! The truck was destroyed! I-Core won't send more until it's safe so until that point, you will just have to suffer!" Max yelled at him, pushing the Major aside as he left his office to find someplace else to go for a while. He coughed and sneezed a few times before he found his way to Rosy's bar. He sat down at the bar and grumbled to Rosy about a beer which she gave to him.  


"Why the long face Klinger?" she asked, her Korean accent heavy.  


"Oh no reason Rosy, it's just been a long day," he told her, trying to hide a ragged cough.  


"You no sound too good, I have friend who—"  


"Save it Rosy, I'm alright. It's just a little cold is all," he held up his hand at her, he knew she was trying to help him with some friend who had herbal remedies but he was sure it'd pass soon, it was just all the stress.  


It was another day and more wounded and more stress from the doctors, the nurses, and even the chaplain. Klinger became sicker and sicker until he couldn't handle anything; he blew up at a night time meeting of the more important personal about the deliveries. He stormed out with tears in his eyes and went to his safe place in the supply hut, he hoped no one followed him but he was sure it wouldn't be the case.  


"What the hell was that all about?" Colonel Potter asked the other three surgeons, the Priest, and Margret. All of them shrugged and mumbled about it. "Has someone been giving Klinger a hard time? Winchester? You're not known for your cuddly affection," he pointed towards the surgeon, accusing. Charles glanced over to Hawkeye and BJ at the mention of his affection but all the same, stuttered that he knew nothing about it.  


"It cannot be I, I merely asked about the shipment of coats we were supposed to have received last week!" he replied.  


"Margret?" Potter looked to her next.  


"Don't look at me sir, I only asked him about the kits my nurses were supposed to receive," she shrugged.  


"I asked him about something he was supposed to get us two a while ago…" BJ confessed, they were all starting to see a pattern.  


"And I got on him about those handmade blankets that were supposed to go to the children…oh dear, I fear I may have pushed him over the edge that night…" Father Mulcahy looked around to his comrades.  


"And I berated him about the penicillin shipment and the reports…" Potter nodded and they all sat in silence for a moment, realizing what was wrong with Max. "I suppose I should go find him then," Potter stood up but Hawk stopped him.  


"With all due respect Colonel, as you so eloquently put it; you're not known for your cuddly affection either. I know where he's hiding, just give me a few minutes with him, alright?" he asked and Potter looked up at him.  


"Alright," he nodded and let his chief surgeon go find their company clerk.  


"And you all stay out of it for now, he doesn't need us all rushing at him again," Hawkeye said to them before he left, they all nodded in agreement. He nodded as well and left to go to supply where he knew their clerk was hiding, he'd seen him sneaking into it the other night.  


As Hawkeye entered into the supply tent he heard a loud thwack, he looked up to see Max kicking a particular box and then regretting it afterwards.  


"Hey," Hawkeye greeted quietly, afraid to scare the clerk off. Max looked up at him, tears welling as he tried to wipe them away in disgust.  


"What do you want? Come for another round of 'punch out the Company Clerk until he breaks'?" he spat at Hawkeye but Hawkeye pressed forward a smidge to try to get closer to him.  


"Klinger, what's wrong?" Hawkeye asked, Max was happy that he'd come alone at least.  


"Why would you care? Why would anyone care what I feel?!" he growled back, backing towards the end of the hut, Hawkeye followed looking like a concerned mother hen that he always was.  


"Klinger, please, it's alright, you can tell me," Hawkeye continued to follow him until they go to the back of the supply hut.  


"Oh sure I can!" Max said sarcastically, "just like you guys all 'tell' me that it's my fault that the supply didn't get here, that somehow it's my fault! That somehow I can control where the hell the stupid mortars are going to hit! That somehow it's my fault the blankets didn't make it to the orphanage," he yelled, tears streaming at this point, "that somehow I'm—I'm this person who's indestructible that I—I can take all you doctors and nurses crap! Like I'm superman or—or something. Well here's the truth Doc, I'm not!" he was practically screaming, still trying to back away from Hawkeye who was patiently listening to his Corporal. Max cried shamefully as he turned his head away.  


"Gee Klinger, I'm really sorry, I didn't realize—"  


"Of course you didn't! Nobody cares what Corporal Maxwell Q. Klinger thinks or feels!" he growled back. Hawkeye knew he needed to shut up since talking was getting him nowhere. Hawkeye sighed and moved forward, when Max didn't move back, he pulled him in for a tight hug. Max went willingly and let all his tears go in Hawkeye's tender embrace.  


"I'm sorry," he spoke quietly as he rubbed Max's back to comfort him. "Nobody can do it all and I'm sorry we pushed you so much. It's not your fault and you have every right to be mad at us," he continued, rocking them slightly side to side. Hawkeye petted at the hair at Max's neck, his hair had gotten long over the last month since it'd been cut last. 

"You can't be superman for all of us," he whispered and Max nodded.  


"What am I going to do?" Max sniffled out before he coughed into Hawkeye's jacket.  


"First you're going to get better, how'd you get sick?" he asked.  


"Stress and sleeping in the cold," Max answered quietly, ashamed of himself for getting this bad.  


"In the cold?!" Hawkeye broke away to hold him at arm's length to look him over worriedly.  


"Here…a night or two ago…not really sure when, actually," Max squinted to think about it.  


"Because you were upset?" he asked and Max nodded, looking down. Hawkeye sighed with pity in his breath as he pulled Max back into his embrace in an attempt to warm him up. "I'm sorry Klinger," he said again, he felt like he couldn't say it enough.  


"Am I…interrupting anything?" they both heard Charles's voice timidly towards the front of the hut. Hawkeye kept on arm around Max as he turned to look at Charles and beckon him forward.  


"I think he needs more love than I can give right now, Charles, it's your turn," Hawkeye let go of Max but Max wasn't totally comfortable being left alone with Charles just yet so he didn't let go of Hawkeye's jacket which kept him there. "Klinger, we all realized after you left, what had been going on. It's alright," he explained and unclamped his hand from his jacket and nodded to the two of them before leaving. The pair watched Hawkeye leave before Charles cleared his throat and with his hands in his pockets, moved closer to his friend.  


"I…I didn't realize how much pain I'd caused you previously…I take it upon myself, I'd like to repeal how I acted formally and wish to apologize," he started, looking sheepishly to his Corporal.  


"Alright," Max nodded, "but in turn, you need to tell me what's bothering you. You've been holding something back and it hasn't helped your attitude at all," Max folded his arms, reaching a hand up to remove the tears that had fallen.  


"Oh…" Charles started, glancing from Max to the floor and back, "it's just…I received a letter from my dear sister, Honoria," he spoke quietly like he was ashamed.  


"Ah-ha, and?" Max egged him on.  


"It seems that she's…she's to be wed," he continued.  


"Well that's great," Max smiled, rubbing more tears away.  


"Yes…yes it is…" he nodded, still shuffling.  


"So why are you sad?"  


"Because I am—I am not there to see it!" Charles exclaimed, finally looking Max in the eye, he had his own eyes misting at the mention and Max knew how sensitive Charles was when it came to his little sister.  


"Oh," Max voiced quietly.  


"They are to have a glorious and extravagant wedding and I am not a part of it! I never once dreamed that I'd miss something so as important as my little sisters nuptial! I can't bear to think that in the family photos, I will have to be cut in; I will never be there to see her walk down the aisle in her beautiful dress. I can see her now, in my mind, smiling but ready to cry at all the joy she's feeling," he took his hands from his pockets to express how angry he was at missing the wedding.  


"Gee Charles, I'm really sorry," was all Max could really say, he really did feel bad that Charles was going to potentially miss a once in a life time event such as this. But Charles continued to shake his head and move forward to place his hands on Max's shoulders as he moved closer to kiss Max's forehead.  


"It is I who is apologetic for treating you so terribly when I should have just explained my malcontent," he said quietly, closer to Max than he had been in a while. Max looked up at him and gave a slight nod, wanting Charles's lips on his already so they could kiss and make up. As he wished, Charles bent down to press their lips together in an attempt of an apology in physical form. Max raised his arms to wrap them around Charles's shoulders as Charles moved closer yet and wrapped his around Max's waist, moving lips together and sucking on each other. Max swooned when Charles pulled him in tighter, hands at the small of his back and shoulder blades; caressing as they continued locking lips in a miniature battle for dominance. Max let his hand thread through what locks Charles did have, enjoying the feeling of the auburn hair under his finger. Open mouths and shut eyes relished in the touch of each other, feelings they hadn't shared in a few weeks, both were missing each other something terrible. Being that it was a war, things didn't last too long.  


"Uhh, Charles, Colonel Potter wants to see us again!" Hawkeye called into the supply hut, warning that the Colonel was probably coming to see Max. But Charles didn't want to let go of his love, they do so reluctantly, Max smiling up to his Major as he snuck a kiss to him.  


"Thanks for understanding," he leaned his head on Charles's shoulder when they stood side by side for a moment, readying to leave the hut.  


"And the same to you Max," he whispered, chasing one last kiss before they left the hut. Max, leaving behind his depreciated feeling with the building, emerging into the cold world around them feeling a little more refreshed and cared for.

_But in the end Uncle, everything does end up working out the way that it should. Call me crazy, but I like it here...for now at least. Until next time Uncle,_

__

_Your Newphew,_

_Maxwell Q. Klinger_


End file.
